


Hold on Me

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dubious Consent, Incest Kink, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dimitri knows this – Sylvain is a good man. Probably wasted, in his arms. He also knows that Sylvain is the best big brother there is, and that he’s forever Dimitri’s.And Dimitri dearly wishes for – a break. Maybe to break something.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Anonymous





	Hold on Me

**Author's Note:**

> for this [kink meme prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1608.html?thread=2205768)!

Recovering bits of his sanity is akin to walking through muddy waters. Not crawling back to the abyss of his darkest hours is an everyday fight, and one he is, most days, tired of fighting.

He doesn’t say thank you, when Sylvain offers him a shoulder to rest on. Even though he knows he shouldn’t take it for granted, even though Sylvain still clearly harbors some resentment towards him. He doesn’t say thank you, because he hasn’t in a long time, and the words feel too important now.

Sylvain is still the big brother he’d always longed for. Through betrayal, grief and war, Sylvain stayed by his side. The way, Dimitri likes to think, a brother would. Not because he loves Dimitri, but because they’ll always be connected, because that bond is unbreakable. Perhaps it is his way to drown a little, to think about the ways Sylvain will always be his.

Perhaps it is Sylvain’s shortcoming as well, to cling to Dimitri as his only almost familial bond he’d apparently die for. Maybe that proving he can still care for Dimitri, after everything, is his way of proving he could have been a better older brother than Miklan ever was to him.

Whatever it is, Sylvain accepts the lion’s teeth near his neck, calls Dimitri all the sweet names he did when they were children patching up scratches.

Dimitri knows this – Sylvain is a good man. Probably wasted, in his arms. He also knows that Sylvain is the best big brother there is, and that he’s forever Dimitri’s. And Dimitri dearly wishes for – a break. Maybe to break something.

They are on their way to Enbarr. The – future – King’s tent is bigger than all others, but just as suffocating than Fhirdiad’s worst establishments. Sylvain doesn’t look as surprised as he was the first times, when Dimitri silently slips into his notably less comfortable bed – if it could be called as such.

This wasn’t made for two, and Dimitri isn’t the skinniest man of the army. Sylvain, by force of habit, tries to hug Dimitri’s back. That is how Dimitri usually feels best – held, protected, cared for. But tonight he’s restless, and his head is spinning. He insists on spooning Sylvain instead, that earns him quizzical looks.

He comes home to the warmth of his dearest big brother’s warmth. He nuzzles Sylvain’s nape. “Talk to me,” he says, but maybe commands. These days, he doesn’t know how Sylvain interprets his words. Dimitri should feel ashamed, and probably will when the sun returns, but he really doesn’t care to know right now. He just wants family.

“I think my horse prefers Ingrid,” Sylvain agreeably says. He definitely sounds like he’d been asleep, voice deep and cracking slightly. “I think that’s really unfair. I’m really kind to her. My horse, I mean.”

Dimitri hums, lets his hand roam Sylvain’s abdomen.

“But you’re not here to hear about my horse.” He sounds like he wants to say something, but decides against it. Dimitri is slightly disappointed by the short amount of words Sylvain came up with, but knows this is already a lot. It’s a lucky day, if Sylvain _tries_ to talk to him.

It doesn’t feel like a lucky day. It feels like a day to break heads, spill blood, crack bones. And Sylvain is so, so fragile. “Talk more.”

Sylvain tries to move, but Dimitri holds him tight in his grip. Sylvain freezes. “You’re thinking about tomorrow.”

Dimitri chuckles. “Among other things, that is possible.”

“I’ll be there,” Sylvain reassures. As if it’s that easy, as if his love truly is unconditional. It makes something in Dimitri yearn for more. “I’ll be where you need me to be. Anything for my little brother.”

And _oh_ that does other things to Dimitri. His hand goes up, to caress Sylvain’s broad chest. “I don’t want to be alone,” Dimitri says, disturbingly honest. The familiar weight of Sylvain’s body, so near, grounds him. And makes him lust after terrible things. “I’ll need – I need you. Out there, right here. I need my family.”

Sylvain’s gasp is weak – but not completely silent. Dimitri squeezes Sylvain’s breast, and is rewarded instantly with another imperfectly concealed gasp. “I – I…”

Sylvain is a good man. Dimitri, most definitely, isn’t. There’s the proof beneath his light sleepwear, a hardness neither of them can ignore. Dimitri has masturbated too many times to different scenarios of this happening to be surprised. Of course, he’d promise to himself and the ghosts that each time would be the last, even if he knew it never would be.

The night strips him of his shame, or guilt. Sylvain had time to run away, he reasons. But he didn’t, so he must like it, or accept it.

“Anything for you, Dimitri.” His voice sounds even more wrecked now. Dimitri takes pleasure in knowing he has something to do with it.

He wants to taste every part of his big brother, starting by the neck he has been so close to, so many times. He kisses the tender skin lightly, in an impressive show of restraint. Sylvain squirms a little under his touch. Dimitri can feel how quickly his heart is beating. A single lick, slow and deliberated, has his dear brother stuttering his name.

That’s the only name Sylvain should ever have to utter in bed. All of the girls – all of Sylvain’s past conquest – not one of them deserved this man’s love. His devotion. Dimitri has it all. Sylvain will allow him to do anything to him. And Dimitri – wants.

His hips uncontrollably look for more friction. He’s certain he’s touching Sylvain’s backside, the mere thought of it brings him closer to the edge. Sylvain’s arm shifts a little – Dimitri realizes where it has went.

He abandons Sylvain’s chest to go lower, and indeed find Sylvain’s hand generously cupping his very own hardness, on top of his own sleepwear. “Fuck – Oh Goddess – You’re the perfect little brother, Dimitri. That’s –”

His sentence is cut short by a moan, when Dimitri’s thumb grazes his clothed length. The fabric is damp – the sheer obscenity of it almost brings Dimitri to completion. He’s aching now, he hasn’t touched himself even once. But it might hurt more to stop touching Sylvain, so he doesn’t. He’s shameless in his back and forth motion.

“I love you,” Sylvain says, when he means, _I’d die for you_. What Dimitri hears is, _I’ll live for you_. “I love you.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri finally says. Because Sylvain will understand. Because they could die tomorrow. “Thank you, Sylvain.”

He reaches his orgasm, and can’t quite stop the possessive growl that comes with it. His fingers dig into the skin of Sylvain’s hipbone, and seconds later, the most erotic sound he’s ever been confronted to comes out of his Sylvain’s lips.

It feels unreal, on many levels. From his own scary boldness, to Sylvain’s enthusiastic response. He came to Sylvain for some peace of mind, and the aftermath of what has transpired has some of that.

He is too lethargic to protest Sylvain’s change of position. He manhandles Dimitri until Sylvain is finally spooning him, holding him. Sylvain’s hands timidly find his. He laces their fingers together. Dimitri feels more peaceful and relaxed than he had hoped to be. Sylvain presses a chaste kiss on neck. “Goodnight, baby brother.”


End file.
